


Fair

by nothingeverlost



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-21 23:37:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingeverlost/pseuds/nothingeverlost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m not asking you to make me feel better, I’m asking for the truth.  Do you want me?”  Two more steps and she had him backed into a corner, literally and metaphorically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fair

Emma didn’t consider herself a selfish lover. She certainly didn’t expect to get off without returning the favor. Somehow, though, that was exactly what had happened with Gold. It was never planned (at least not on her end, but one never knew what was going on in Gold’s mind) but three times now innocuous meetings between them had ended up with him getting her off using his fingers. Once his mouth had been involved as well; the man really knew how to use his tongue. Which shouldn’t surprise her, as he certainly had a skill when it came to twisting words.

The first time, on his couch, he’d brushed her off with a ‘next time’ when she’d offered to return the favor. The second time, in his shop’s back room, the bell above his door had rung before anything more could happen. The third time he’d been out the door of the sheriff’s station before she’d even gotten her head around the fact that she’d been fingerfucked on her desk by Gold, with nothing but a glass wall separating them from anyone who might walk in.

It was getting ridiculous.

“When is the last time you had sex?” She was irritable and tired, frustrated at once again watching Henry walk home to Regina when she knew that wasn’t the best place for him, and it seemed just the right time (or entirely the wrong one) to corner Gold at his home.

“I’d hate to think that my visit to your place of work the other afternoon was so forgettable as that, Ms. Swan.” His navy shirt was rolled up to expose his forearms and there was a dish towel draped over his shoulder. She’d managed to interrupt dinner preparations again.

“That wasn’t sex. That was… I don’t know what.” She’d been frustrated then too, pouring over web searches for the rights of biological parents, trying to find any hope. Her head had been throbbing with the early signs of a headache. The stress had been less, after he’d gone, and the threatening headache had never arrived. “You can have sex, right? Your parts are all…”

“Quite.” The corner of his mouth curled up. “I haven’t reached the stage of decrepit old man just yet.”

“You’re many things, Gold, but I’ve never thought of you as old.” If she really thought about it, there was something strangely ageless about Gold. She tried not to think about him too much. Or them. Or what the fuck they were doing.

“Well now that we have that established…” Gold limped off to the kitchen, Emma following close behind him. She had no idea if he was annoyed or amused. Or just plain done with her for the night.

“You never did answer my question.” If he thought he could ignore her while he went back to dinner preparations he didn’t understand her as well as he claimed.

“Didn’t I, dearie?” He seemed to be intent on seasoning the steak in front of him, but Emma noted the way the muscle at the side of his neck was straining and the strange set of his shoulders.

She almost laughed. “You’re scared.”

“Of you, Ms. Swan? I hardly think so.” He barely glanced up at her before turning to pull a skillet from one of the cabinets.

“This whole time I’ve been in town I’ve only seen you with anything other than perfect control once, for reasons you still won’t explain.” She remembered it, the total rage as he’d struck Moe French with the cane. The wild animal look in his eyes for just a moment before he registered who she was. He’d pulled it together so quickly, but in that moment she’d barely recognized him.

She been almost frightened of him.

The expression on his face was impossible to name before it faded and transformed into a smirk. “Does it irk you that I managed to get freed from your jail cell so quickly, while your friend…”

“No. You’re not going to distract me like that.” If she hadn’t been certain before, she was now. He was standing completely still, but he was trying to find a way to run. Or make her run. “Answer me three things. Do you like sex?”

“It’s enjoyable enough with the right partner,” he answered with a shrug.

“Do you find me fuckable?” There was no point beating around the bush. If he was just fucking with her rather than wanting to fuck her, she needed to know. She’d been there and didn’t want to do it again.

“That’s rather more crude than I would have put it, but I think you’re perfectly aware of how attractive you are.” He didn’t turn on the heat under the pan he’d set on the stove. At least she had part of his attention.

“Gold.” She took a step towards him. He wasn’t lying, but he wasn’t answering her question either.

“Would it make you feel better if I described the dream I had about you, after your visit to the back room of my shop? You were dressed rather less than you are at the moment.” His hand rested on the counter, not noticeably holding him up but it did make her realize that it was one of the only times she’d seen him without the cane that was resting against the island.

“I’m not asking you to make me feel better, I’m asking for the truth. Do you want me?” Two more steps and she had him backed into a corner, literally and metaphorically. The fridge was to her left, counter to the right, and Gold was right in front of her.

“There’s a great many things I want. I’m a complicated man.” He licked his lower lip for good measure. Most people Emma had met in town would have backed away from the shark-like expression. She wasn’t most people.

“That’s an understatement. And I’m sure I’ve only scratched the surface of just how complicated you are. But right now there’s only one thing I’m interested in.” One half step, an inching forward, and she was pressed against him. For all that they’d done it was the most they’d probably touched, all at once. Emma tilted her head, her mouth to his ear, a whisper despite the fact that there was no one to overhear them. “You can tell me to go away, Gold, if that’s what you want. But if there’s going to be sex it’s going to be on both sides. No more of this half assed you in control stuff.”

“And here I thought you were enjoying yourself.” He didn’t try to pull away, but he didn’t initiate anything either. “Afraid to let go of a little control?”

“Are you?” She waited for an answer. He’d seen, more than anyone except Mary Margaret, her most vulnerable moments. He’d manipulated some of them though, so far, not to hurt her. She wasn’t him. She wouldn’t push, not unless he agreed to wanting more. Instead she waited, his breath against the side of her neck almost making her itch as she stayed completely still..

The answer came in the form of a kiss, her upper lip tugged into his mouth, teeth scraping against it. He never had answered her question about the last time he’d had sex, but he certainly knew about kissing in a way that was not learned from books. “This is a terrible idea.”

“Welcome to my life.” It wasn’t the best idea she’d ever had. It was far from the worst, either. She couldn’t control the fact that someone had framed Mary Margaret for murder, or that Henry felt more like hers every day but she might never have him. Graham was dead and she she couldn’t do anything about that, or the fact that she couldn’t possibly be a real sheriff. But she could control this. She could chose who to be with. Gold wasn’t safe, not by most definitions, but he wasn’t looking for a relationship any more than she was. They worked together, in a strange kind of way. They were, in a stranger kind of way, almost friends. Friends with benefits. “It might be a terrible idea, but is it wrong?”

“Probably, but that doesn’t seem to be stopping us.” It didn’t stop his hands, either, from cupping her ass and pulling her ever closer. Close enough that she could feel the irrefutable proof that he did, indeed, want her.

Kissing Gold had none of the sweetness of kissing Graham. There were no gentle caresses or tender looks. No dazed wonder. She couldn’t have handled that. Kissing Gold was fire, fueling her own need. It was a tension that would lead to a release. A temporary one, but that was all she ever expected. “Hope you don’t mind postponing dinner.”

“I think I can cope.” His fingers were warm as they slipped between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of her pants, kneading the small of her back. He’d started that way in her office as well, almost a simple massage if she didn’t know that it would turn into more. “You might even say it’s a matter of having dessert first tonight.”

“I’m not sweet.” She wasn’t a princess either, no matter what Henry kept insisting about her parents. Princesses didn’t give birth to babies in jail. They didn’t run away from seven different foster homes. And they certainly didn’t fuck pawn shop owners that were a hell of a lot more than they seemed while standing up in the kitchen.

“I wouldn’t think of accusing you of such a thing.” The nip at her collarbone was a punctuation mark on his promise. She considered asking him to keep any marks low enough that a shirt would hide them, but it was still cold enough to wear a turtleneck. No one needed to know what was under it. “Salty, on the other hand…”

“Less talking.” Emma shut him up with a kiss, finding a confidence that had been lacking in their most recent encounters. She knew where she stood with this. Sex was easy, and a hell of a lot less confusing. Gold’s tongue against the roof of her mouth made her moan. His fingers moving in circles on her back made her shudder. Her own fingers found the knot of his tie and tugged. He’d seen her stripped down to her bra and panties, while rolled up sleeves was the most undressed she’d seen him. It was time to even the playing field.

She managed to get most of the buttons undone without breaking the kiss, but when she got the material free from the waistband she took half a step back. The navy shirt hung loose, gaping to reveal a lean torso. Gold’s skin was pale, obviously he didn’t spend much time in the sun, which wasn’t a surprise. His chest was almost hairless, his muscles toned. 

“Finished looking, dearie?” Gold asked after a minute, an eyebrow raised.

“Like you haven’t looked your fill before.” Cufflinks were a nuisance. The arm garters were something she’d never dealt with before, but they came off with the shirt easily enough when she pushed it off his shoulders. When he was nude from the waist up she looked again. Mary Margaret would never believe her if she said Gold had a body she admired. David was her type, but he was too golden adonis for Emma. She liked the lithe, lean, and almost hungry look of the man before her, though she was sure Gold had never actually gone hungry. “You know what they say about turn about being…”

“Nothing in this life is fair.” She’d grown to expect the strength in in his hands, but she was still surprised when he turned them both in a tight half circle, capturing her between the counter and his body. “Not even play.”

“I don’t care about fair. Never expected it.” She wasn’t used to talking to anyone about her past. She wasn’t sure why bits and pieces fell out around him; maybe because she knew she didn’t have to worry about him feeling sorry for her. Mary Margaret looked close to crying anytime Emma referenced bad foster homes or her string of ‘use her then lose her’ skeezy boyfriends. If Gold reacted at all she couldn’t see it; he tugged her shirt over her head, and had her bra almost off before she could look at him again.

“What are you expecting tonight, dearie?” She wasn’t sure what a pawnbroker and landlord did to get calluses on his hands, and if it involved that sheep crap she didn’t want to know, but the rough skin circling her nipples made her shudder.

“If I have to answer that you haven’t been paying attention, Gold.” Her patience had already been worn thin when she’d arrived at his house. She wasn’t going to let him lead her into any of his word games. She didn’t need words at all, though at least Gold didn’t lie to her, which was more than she could say for most guys she’d been with.

“Well, then.” His teeth scraped against her collarbone, his palm cupping her through her jeans. They were thick enough that he couldn’t possibly feel how wet she was. Probably couldn’t. Hell, with Gold you never knew. She didn’t really care, as long as he didn’t take too long in actually undoing her jeans. To give him a hint she reached for his pants, and found her hands brushed away.

“Gold.” She meant to protest, but it came out sounding uncomfortably like a moan when he sucked one of her nipples into his mouth. The man had a fucking limp, she had no idea how he was able to balance and suck and still managed to unzip her jeans. Figuring that he was busy, and not paying too much attention, Emma did something she’d never done before. She ran her fingers through his hair.

Damn if it wasn’t as soft as it looked. The most feared man in Storybrooke had hair that would rival a newborn baby’s, or a down feather. Emma snorted. When Gold looked up at her she shrugged. “One of us is still wearing too much.”

“In a hurry, are we?” The palms of his hands slid down her hips as he pushed down her jeans. The moment the hit the floor she stepped out of them, unembarrassed about being completely nude in his kitchen. Growing up in group homes and spending time on the streets had stripped away her modesty pretty quick. When you shared a room with three other girls there wasn’t much point in hiding while you changed.

“Three weeks of foreplay, Gold. This isn’t a hurry, it’s about damn time.” This time when she went for the button on his trousers he didn’t stop her. She watched as the pants fell, getting only a glimpse of something that might be scar tissue on his leg before his mouth was on hers. She didn’t have time to wonder if he was trying to distract her from looking, not with his hands caressing her body and his erection rubbing against her entrance, separated only by a thin layer of silk. 

Emma groped for the waistband of his boxers, pushing them down, removing the last obstacle between them. She wrapped one hand around his cock, feeling the thickness. “Fuck.”

“That is the general idea of things, yes.” He smirked as he started pushing into her. Emma raised her leg and wrapped it around his waist, pulling him closer. She didn’t need slow and gentle, not that he seemed to be inclined towards either.

The counter dug into the middle of her back as he thrust, but her own hands dug into her shoulders so that was only fair. It had been a year, give or take, since she’d had sex. Strange to believe she could forget just how good it could feel, to have that tight friction of someone moving inside of her. He thrust deeper, and she threw her head back, hitting the cabinet with the back of her head.

“Careful, dearie. No reason to break the cabinetry.” There was almost a gentleness in his fingers, though, was they probed the back of her head, ending with a caress of her hair.

“Your concern is touching.” She could see lust in his eyes, as he watched her, thrusting his hips forward once again. There was still a cold layer of control that was always present, as if a part of him was stepping back and simply observing. She’d never known anyone with such a tight grip on their control.

“Harder,” she demanded, determined to push him as far as she could. Maybe she didn’t want him to lose control, not considering the single result she’d seen of that happening. She wanted to know that she had some impact on him, though. Her heart was racing, her skin was flushed, and her nerves were screaming with energy; she wanted him to at least feel something. Her mouth found the spot where his pulse beat under the skin of his neck; at least that was beating faster than it had been earlier. She sucked, hard, not caring what he had to explain later. Like anyone in town would dare to question Gold about a hickey.

Well maybe Regina, but who cared?

“Need…” She was so close. The tension was almost painful, the knife edge between pleasure and pain.

“Let go.” His voice was a whisper in her ear, the words barely discernable in the thick accent. It was the finger brushing against her clit, though, that finished her off. She squeezed tight around him, shouting without words as she trembled and spasmed. It felt like there were fireworks in the kitchen, a light show just for her.

When her heart began to approach normal and she was able to take deep breaths she could focus on the fact that he was still hard inside of her. There was a fine sheen of sweat on his face, though, so that was something.

“Take your own advice, Gold. Let go.” He looked, for a moment, like he didn’t know what she was talking about. And then the mask slipped back into place and he was cocky and smirking.

“I think…”

“You think too much.” She reached down to massage his balls, scraping a fingernail against the sensitive skin. She tightened her core muscles around him. “Come on, Gold. You know you want to.”

He came more silently than anyone Emma had seen before, lips pressed together and not even the sound of breathing. His eyes were closed, but even without seeing his expression there was a raw openness to his face that Emma hadn’t expected. A vulnerability that she’d never associated with him. Transfixed, she barely noticed the feeling as he softened and slid out of her.

“There’s a washroom down the hall if you wish to clean up.” He didn’t look at her as he pulled away, shuffling to the side as well as he could with his trousers still around his legs. He leaned heavily against the counter with both hands.

“Yeah. Okay.” It wasn’t like she’d been expecting pillow talk or anything. Hell, they hadn’t even been near a bed. The immediate dismissal surprised her.

She scooped up her clothes before heading down the hall, washing up with a deep blue washcloth that she rinsed and draped over the edge of the sink when she was done. She was gone maybe five minutes, but when she returned to the kitchen for her shoes Gold was gone, as were the clothes he had been wearing. There was no sign of him until she the back of the first floor, where a dim glow emanated from under the door that she knew led to the library. A careful turn of the knob revealed what she’d suspected; it was locked. “Guess I’ll let myself out, then.” 

Emma wasn’t quite ready to go home, so she stopped at Granny’s on the way and ordered a beer. She was thirsty, and it wasn’t like Gold had ever gotten around to offering her anything.

“Did you have a good day?” Ruby asked solicitously as she poured the beer into an iced glass.

Emma gave it a moment’s thought before nodding. “It certainly wasn’t boring.”


End file.
